What a waste
by Shadowsynergy
Summary: The travels of the only male witch and the way he deals with his infection... Rated M for safety and violence... Chapter 3 up...
1. Chapter 1

**He fell to his knees… crying at both the pain and the sadness. The memories almost burned into him as he realized that he was over, his life was simply over, and he had wasted it. He tried to save the lives of a few morons that he had known would die anyway. His foolish friends simply didn't have the skills and intelligence to live through this without him, and they sure as shit couldn't protect his sister. He had thrown away his life for nothing, he thought himself a hero, but now… Now he was an infected. He was over, he was doomed, and that's not what made him cry the most.**

** The greatest reason was the pain. He felt the change happening in his gut and spreading out like smoke from a fire to his limbs and head. Half of the sensation was numbing and half was a burning that made him feel like he'd vomit. It spread down to his fingertips. They split open and bled while long bones slowly sprouted out to make them to a sharp point, they elongated and sharpened. His skin paled before his eyes and he felt his heart flutter in weak rapid beats. His hair at the corners of his vision lightened until it was almost white.**

**He realized he was becoming a zombie, a witch to be exact. It seemed that's the only thing he could be. But as far as he knew only females could be witches. But did it matter? No. No it did not, because he was becoming one either way.**

** His eyes began to hurt and the dim light around him seemed blinding. He wrapped his head in his newly grown claws and covered his eyes. He was filled with sadness and pain that clouded his mind like smoke. He wasn't even sure what caused the sadness any more. Tears rolled down his face onto his palms. His blood rolled from his fingers onto his liquid white face and into his hair. He cried for so long that he had lost track of time. As night fell and his vision should have faded, he just saw, almost as clearly as he could during the day. The only difference was that his eyes didn't ache like before.**

**His hearing elevated, even the breeze hurt his ears. His hearing kept getting better until even the shuffling of his clothes hurt his ears. He stood and attempted to take off his shirt but his claws made it next to impossible. As he fumbled with the cloth he cut into his skin and thin trails of blood dripped down, and he barely felt the pain. He got frustrated and was filled with rage, it tore into the sadness that nearly encompassed him now and then clouded his mind and overwhelmed it. The rage he felt took over and his vision went red. He tore at his clothes and shredded them until nothing but scraps of his shirt on his shoulders and his boxers remained. He fell back to his knees and the sadness took over once again, his crying resuming almost instantaneously.**

**The common infected avoided him as he cried. It was like they heard his cries and knew that he was a threat. There weren't too many of them in the city but it was still a heavily infected zone. He hadn't seen any other survivors while alive and he had started to think he and his friends and sister were the only humans left. But now it's just them, if they are even still alive without him.**

**It began to rain and every drop pattering on the ground screamed into his ears and pounded his brain. He couldn't stand the repetition and encompassing sound. He stood and shakily began to look for a quieter place. The grey sky blocked out a lot of the light and made it easier on his eyes. He wasn't sure when the sun had risen but it was day once more. The problem of the light hurting his eyes had passed in the clouded day but now the wind and rain were horribly loud to him, and the rain froze him to the bone.**

**Even though he hadn't felt hungry he was losing weight and was almost all skin and bones. He wrapped his arms around himself trying to keep warm but it was futile. Ducking into an apartment building he attempted to close the door behind him but he simply couldn't maneuver his claws on the handle.**

**The sounds of the wind pounded his head and he went deeper in to get away from the door. There were no common infected in this building and it was out of the cold and rain. He huddled in the room farthest back and fell to his knees. It was the only room without broken windows so it was not drafty and much quieter than the rest of the building. He relaxed as it was not hurting his head as much in here and he began to dry out. He went into the kitchen of an apartment and looked in a cabinet.**

**Though not feeling hungry he grabbed out a can of something and sliced open the top with his claws. Devouring the food he finally realized how starving he was. He was absolutely ravenous. He started back into the cabinet and grabbed a second can. He looked closely at it and attempted to read it but his head was clouded and he couldn't concentrate well enough to make out the label. He cut it open and ate it too. After sating his hidden hunger the sadness seemed to instantaneously return. He didn't know how long it had been since he had eaten or slept but he knew it was too long for the one time he had eaten and he also needed to sleep. Falling to his knees again he wept until he finally passed out.**

**He wasn't sure how he ended up in the alley, in the center of the city. He couldn't even remember when he had moved. He simply remembered the sadness. Over time it morphed into anger, and rage. The fury mused on his sadness and turned his mind into a warped vapor of its previous self. His thoughts no longer existed. His head hurt if he even attempted to rationalize anything but sadness.**

**He continually cried until someone made the mistake to intrude upon his misery.**

**A man and women were in the area and had stupidly attracted the attention of the local common infected. They were running. As they ran the women made a lot of noise and didn't seem to pay any attention. The man made the mistake of following her as opposed to leading. The women noticed him at about fifteen feet away. He tried to yell stay back, to warn them of his form and his anger, and all that came out was a low screechy growl.**

**"Oh, dear it's a Witch!" the women nearly shouted. The sound grated against his ears and nearly shredded his mind. The people were much too loud.**

**"Honey you must be quiet if it is a witch," The man whispered to the women, clearly at least somewhat experienced. "But it does not appear to be. It's male." He then added quietly.**

**"No look, pale skin, long white hair, crying in an alley, it has to be one!"**

**He felt anger pierce him, the power surge through him as he stood up to face the intruders on his domain. These people surely had no idea what a mistake they had made. He would kill them. Even he knew not the extent of his rage.**

**He had truly lost his mind. His thoughts had no bearing, he had undoubtedly gone insane. He began to stand and he lifted his claws as a warning. They shook and he screeched lightly and in a high tone. His warning faded from his mind as anger took over. He began to run toward the loud women and he wailed a low pitched cry.**

**The women screamed and turned to run. But the man just put his back and arms against the alley wall. He targeted the women, the one who had truly disturbed him, and swung his arms toward her. His left claws pierced her abdomen and his right ones her hip. He lifted her off of the ground and pulled apart, tearing her right leg off with a cry from him mixing with her screams. The blood ran freely from her veins and soaked him as it fell across his legs. He finished her by striking his claws quickly through her head. Her brain and bone separated and tore down his arm. The gore splattered across his chest and on to his face. He reveled in the death he caused.**

**He whipped around and the man was nowhere to be seen. His vision was still reddened and he huffed with bloodlust. It wasn't right to him. He was raging and fuming and couldn't calm. He merely stood there screeching with each breath for several minutes.**

** He only then began to clear his head and comprehend what he had done. He had taken human life, viciously murdered. He was truly a monster. He collapsed to his knees. Wallowing in the misery of what had happened. He had just killed a woman. Kneeling in her blood, his hands and claws soaked and stained, He collapsed into himself mentally and physically…**

**He didn't know how long the weeping continued but over time he came to the realization that this was who he was now. If he could even say he was anything. All he knew was his misery, anger, and that he had wasted his life. He was covered in blood and dirt. He stood out of her blood, and walked slowly away hunched and staring down like the miserable monster he truly felt he was.**


	2. Chapter 2

**He continued walking onward to escape what he had done, he continued simply to not be there anymore. He didn't know how long he'd have to walk to clear his mind of his guilt, but he'd walk until he couldn't walk more. He walked until his legs felt wrong, not quite like they were sore but just not quite normal, despite how much his leg's should have hurt. He supposed it was the infection.**

**He could think more clearly as the sadness that he felt was pierced by the guilt he felt at his crime. He walked so far as to pass the city limit and he followed the road as he could. When day broke he walked to the side of the road and curled up under a half way overturned white semi on the shoulder. The light hurting his eyes he covered his face with thick blood stained claws. The reminder of what he had done shrouding his face. His sadness began to sink back into his mind and it clouded his thoughts. He began to weep into his claws again and he lost track of time.**

**When the clouds began to roll in, his eyes ceased hurting and when he got up to walk his mind began to clear once more. It seemed to him that his sadness could only take a serious hold and dampen his thoughts when he sat in one place for a length of time. The light breeze whipped his snow white and blood stained hair into his face and the noise of the world around him rang in his ears. When the rain began to patter down and lightly wet his shirt he found a truck on the side of the road and tried to open the door. When he could not maneuver his claws on the latch he slammed his fist through the metal door and tore the latch open.**

**He crawled into the front and lay across the seats. Reaching out with his foot so as not to more damage the vehicle he hooked it through the hole his fist had made and pulled the door closed. Laid against the soft leather interior he actually felt comfortable for the first time since his change, and as the sadness set in he focused on the loud pattering rain and managed to push it away from his mind to fall comfortably into sleep.**

**Waking to be on the road once again, and the rain dried up, the sun had nearly set behind the city he came from. He continued his walk onward until the previous city was left behind him. The city he died in… The city he killed in… As it fell behind him he began to feel better. Time passed and he moved more and more.**

**As he moved at about 6 miles outside the city limit he heard a repetitive banging noise from a distance down the road. It would end and continue with no seeming pattern. It slammed against his head with each blasting wave and hurt his ears. He backed away from the source of the sound but the loud slam off in the distance seemed to follow him.**

**He walked off the side of the road and he sat on the ground next to an overturned car. As the sound grew closer and closer it caused him to lose more and more of a grip on his mind until he was just sitting on the side of the road, covering his ears and weeping. Nothing in his thoughts but wishing that sound was no-more.**

**It seemed like the sound was so loud it could deafen anyone, and yet he knew it was just his over sensitive ears. The banging led him to be so irrational he couldn't hear anything but the banging as its source finally came into view.**

**Three people came up the road, one armed with a sig .45 and the other two armed with poles, the one with the gun was a male, 5'11'', he was semi well-built and seemed to know his way around a pistol, the two with poles were women around twenty, swinging their way through the zombies and the man dumping rounds into the groups of common infected. As his head rung more and more he could do nothing but stare and he began to weep.**

**As the people approached and noticed him they all slowed down.**

**"Shhh… be quiet, there's a witch up ahead" the man said quietly. The two women nodded and they kept walking and began to pass him. Then one of the women spoke up quite loudly.**

**"Is that a male witch?"**

**"Why yes I believe so!" the other women said nearly as loud.**

**"Oh be quiet you two it's still a witch." The man almost whispered. They were attempting to be quiet as they began to pass the male witch from a little away. They continued to walk past but a zombie jumped out of a truck bed at them right as they passed him, the man whipped around and fired three rounds into the zombie. It fell with a bloody thud and a pool began to form around its corpse.**

**The noise of the shots fired so close hurt like an explosion in his brain, and enraged the male witch. He couldn't control his rage as his vision went red and he nearly leapt off of the ground. The wail of the witch rang to the man and he wheeled to shoot at the witch. He fired three shots, two tore into his middle and his blood seeped from the wounds, and they served but to enrage him more as his fist smashed into the man. The sheer force of the first swing lifted the man off of the ground and cracked his ribs.**

**The witch wheeled around and sliced the man across the gut. His entrails fell forth and spilled out toward the ground. His blood splashed up and mixed with the blood already coating the witch. The man fell backward and the witch tore onto him. His claws tore flesh and cracked bone. The man's screams fell quiet and the witch continued swinging.**

**The women knew the man was already dead and they began to back away, at fifty feet or so they turned to run and they dropped their poles behind them. The terror he caused rang with him while he was enraged like this. He still tore the man's flesh as blood pooled as it could not possibly more thoroughly coat the man or himself. The man was already dead and the witch began to slow his swings. The reality of the situation set in… And it meant nothing to him. He was a witch. He was startled by loud noises. The man should have been more careful. It was not his fault the man was mistaken.**

**The witch turned to walk down the road. The source of the hurting sound had passed. He was free from that torture, and now he could continue. He was walking no longer to escape his violence, but more to move on to a new place and to put his humanity behind him.**

**As he walked the blood began to dry against him. It was caked on and he began to wish for some rain to wash the blood off of him. Shortly after silently wishing that to himself the clouds thickened, and the sun finally fully set. With the sun gone and the stars covered there was next to no light. Even in the near pitch black he could see.**

**A light rain began to fall and he stopped walking to allow the water to loosen the blood. He ran the edge of a claw along his skin, pulling off the caked blood. He ran his claws through his hair and it combed the blood out. He turned his face upward and opened his mouth wide to the cool rain, taking an almost drink from the sky. He felt cleaner than he had since his transformation however many days ago it had been.**

**The rain soaking his shredded clothes and hair chilled him and the night air slightly chilled him. He kept walking however. Seeing a sign on the side of the road he tried to focus and read it to see where he was. He couldn't get a good view and it all blurred though he had great vision to everything else. He simply couldn't read. As he got closer to the sign the letters on it didn't clear at all. Taking a risk at that point he simply took the exit after the sign.**

**The sign took him into a city. Seeking shelter from the cold he continued inward, toward the center of the city. He ducked into a subway and it was dank but there was no wind and it was warmer then outside. He wandered the subway for a short amount of time and he found a vending machine that was broken open.**

**He grabbed some candy and a drink out of it. He couldn't read what either said but he tore open the candy and it was sweet and chocolaty. He attempted to unscrew the cap and just punctured the bottle, the light green fluid dripping out. He poked a bigger hole and held it up to drink out of it. It tasted citrusy and he guessed lemon and grapefruit. He grabbed out more candy and tore into various snacks from the machine. A lot of it had been looted before this but he was more than satisfied with his haul of candy and snacks and sodas.**

**As he walked through the subway he saw multiple overturned rail cars but nothing that seemed to be a good place to rest for his weary cold self. Finally he found an upright car with a big red door and supplies inside. It had guns and medic kits, none of which he could use of course, and it had some food and water that he did not need as he had just eaten. But it also had a soft bedroll that he could lay on for a night. So he went back to the first door and pulled it closed by its window bars. Then he lay down on the bedroll and relaxed. Even when the sadness he had become accustom to set in he barely cried, almost silently, and fell into a deep sleep.**


	3. Chapter 3

When he woke in the train car and opened his eyes a bright light shined into them and passed around the inside of the small room he had slept in. It hurt his eyes. The light shined in and passed again. No matter how he blinked and looked away he couldn't get his eyes to focus. He stared at the entrance door to the train car. He looked out and the light passing through it hurt his eyes. He stood and moved away toward the other door. His back against the door he growled low and loud.

"Is there someone in there?" a male voice said, tired sounding and rough as though thirsty "I'm not infected, let me in!"

The loud voice hurt his head and he growled, the man looked through the window and shined his light through.

"Oh shit" the man said quietly as he saw him clearly against the far door. The man immediately flipped off his light and backed away from the door.

He was stunned by the randomness of the encounter, but he came to his senses and turned to the outward door. He left the safe house.

He walked on and all was quiet. Nothing was happening and he simply walked. His feet landing softly on the concrete of the subway he walked on.

As he traveled he thought of how the man had reacted and left. Where could the man go? This was the only way forward. Would the man backtrack? Or simply wait for him to leave? Was it bad of him to take a place that was clearly intended for human safety? The thoughts hurt his head and he couldn't rationalize the morals. He took what he needed, he was a zombie now.

The sadness that accompanied his mind was barely noticeable as he walked but it still slowed him and worried him. It was like an appendage he didn't notice. It was always there but somehow out of his notice.

As he traveled through the subway he noticed a blatant lack of zombies. There were few and they weren't hoarding like they normally did. He also found periodic bodies of zombies lying on the ground. Some appeared almost undamaged and others appeared torn to shreds like they had been shot point blank with a shotgun, their flesh made ribbons like a sick zombie birthday piñata.

He reached the end of the subway and came up to the surface. He found himself in the nighttime. It was dark but the street lights burned like flares in a cave. He looked down at the ground and continued walking toward the opposite edge of the city.

As he came near a large building nearby he began to stumble upon large amounts of zombie bodies near the entrance. He walked in and just shortly in he found another thick red door. It was barricaded from the inside but he felt a need to see what humans had killed the hordes of zombies he had seen behind him. He walked to the side of the door and stuck a claw into the wall. He cut like a saw and made a chunk of the wall open.

He squeezed through and found himself inside a room larger than the last bared off room he had been in. Its supplies looked used. The exit door stood open and the bar that should have held it closed lay on the ground. He walked through and zombie bodies lay littered across the ground.

The stench burned his nose and the blood everywhere dyed the scene red, he could barely take a step without his feet landing in zombie guts.

The overhead lighting of the large building was white light and hurt his eyes like a fire; he walked with his head down and a hand covering his face.

He went through many halls, here and there he found the corpses of special infected that he recognized. That was all well and fine until he came upon the body of a human, a chunk taken of its flesh. It was a black man, probably mid-twenties. He held a pistol in his hands as if he had gone down fighting; the sight of a dead human disgusted him. His body lay sprawled like it was a painful death.

He walked past the body and all was well until he heard a loud noise that grated with his ears like a steel file and what sounded like the wail of hundreds of zombies all converging on a single goal, their wail instilling fear in him and hurting his head like a hammer to his skull. He thought for a moment and decided to run and see if he could find the humans that were working their way through this hospital; he wound his way through hall after hall. Getting closer to the source of the sound with every corner he finally rounded the final one.

He turned the corner to see dozens of zombies sprinting toward three humans. One had a shotgun and one held an Uzi, the final was wielding an assault rifle…

The humans were lined up in front of an elevator, dropping horde upon merciless horde of zombies. He stood way back from the crowd but his sensitive vision allowed him to see the battle in perfect clarity.

He winced as each bullet slipped into zombie flesh, the bang of the guns hurting his head and the flash accompanied by the overhead lights hurting his eyes. Blood splattered toward walls.

He took a good look at the humans. Two male, one female, all white, the female and one male appeared mid to late twenties and the other male appeared quite older as he wielded his assault rifle with a precision that astonished him. He was smoking a cigarette and pulling headshot after headshot out of the crowd. The elevator arrived with a painful ding and the humans pilled on, the doors closing behind them.

The zombie crowd lost its directive with their targets gone, and a few of the closer ones began to notice him, they moved closer and fear set into him. The sight of grayed faces coated in blood paralyzed him and he fell to his knees. The fear spurred on the sadness in his mind. He took his head in his hands and wept.

The encroaching zombies slowed at the sound of his cries and the farther back ones turned and ran in the totally opposite direction, as if terror had overtaken all their hunting instinct.

He cried for quite a while after falling to the sadness. But after it was over he stood and worked his way to the elevator door. The smell of zombie blood was sickly sweet and coated the air. He pushed the elevator button with a claw and punctured it, removing its cover. So he pushed it again, this time with his knuckle, and he could hear the elevator begin it's decent toward him.

The elevator arrived and he walked onto it, the button the humans had pressed clearly defined by the bloody fingerprints on it. He pushed it with his knuckle like he had the outer button. With the doors sliding closed he looked just in time for him to see a witch, a female one, round the corner that he had earlier, and look straight into his eyes, or more into his soul…


End file.
